It was a foggy morning – she was driving to work and wondering about him, as usual. It has been a month since he’d written to her. A song was playing in the background lifting memories of him like the smokey fog against the sleepy sun. She knew what he’d write if she were to poke him. I miss you terribly, he’d say and she would feel happy that he thought of her so dearly. After a few weeks, he’d forget and she would wonder and ponder endlessly. The game of love would recycle into a game of attention.
She opened her email as soon as she reached her desk. What should she write? Anger, fear, frustration, doubt presented themselves in different forms. She chose – a subject line – all well? She stared at it before hitting send to his email id – the one she wasn’t supposed to use unless necessary. After an hour, he replied – Yeah, will write today… missing you. A part of her overjoyed though conflicts in her mind intensified. What am I doing here? What am I lacking that I have to seek attention from someone who only remembers me when I remind him of my existence?
She stared at the reply and started writing – volley of thoughts wanted to burst, given their history of two decades, but she held back. This account was his only link to reach her. She moved her mouse over Account -> delete account -> confirm and clicked. She smiled. She was free.